


Emptiness

by mizface



Series: djinn!Ray [1]
Category: due South
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-22
Updated: 2013-01-22
Packaged: 2017-11-26 10:27:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/649581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mizface/pseuds/mizface
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first thing he’s aware of is the howling.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Emptiness

**Author's Note:**

> Technically, this is pre-Ray, as it is a timestamp set just before Fraser opens the (at that time unnamed) djinn's bottle in "A Far Cry From Cocoa Beach". Written for a ds_snippets challenge.

The first thing he’s aware of is the howling, pulling him from his forced slumber. He's surrounded by inky darkness, bare hints of light not enough to illuminate his scant space. Not that he needs much room; he is amorphous, ephemeral, a wisp of a non-entity. 

His bottle rocks and rattles, the stopper nearly shaken loose. A part of him desperately wishes (ha!) it would, or that his bottle would break and his essence would be scattered by the gale outside. He thinks it'd be worth it, the pain of tens of thousands of grains of sand tearing through him, mixing with him with the storm, if it ended this lonely, unhappy existence.

If he had form, that thought would have knocked a bitter laugh from his throat. The inescapable truth is that he will never be free, especially not through anything as simple as an accident. Nothing Nature churned out could liberate him; magic wasn’t that easy to escape. 

He forces himself away from the foolish, morbid line of thought and listens, despite the fact that in this form he has no ears with which to hear. The wind sounds different. There's no sand, he realizes, nothing sending high-pitched, piercing pings echoing within the small chamber. Something's pelting the sides of his prison, but it's soft and…wet? 

It makes him curious despite himself. He wonders where he is, and who's about to find him. He swirls around, uncertain and impatient, and waits to see what the fates have brought him. Because why else would he have woken? The best, the _best_ he can ever hope for is a Master who is kind (not to him, never to him) and thoughtful in his wants, careful with his wishes. 

He lost the ability to hope for more long, long ago.


End file.
